


Tëlawtu

by rin0rourke



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Ice cannibal, Mhuwe Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rin0rourke/pseuds/rin0rourke
Summary: Pitch finds himself on the wrong end of the foodchain when his precious Fearling Prince gives into baser urges. Jack Frost was never made of dreams and stardust but of the land and river of his birth, and when a Munsee ice spirit falls it does not fall gracefully.





	

This wasn't how it was meant to go, this wasn't how it was supposed to be!

Pitch scrambled back, heels digging into the sand covered ice, traction, he needed traction. He needed to get out of there.

Jack Frost watched him from his kill, red eyes dull and devoid of light, not the yellow of a fearling, but RED. 

It was strange on him, red was not a good color on a winter spirit, it did not match, not even with the blood staining his hooded sweatshirt. The blood wasn't red, no that much blood in the moonlight looked black. Black hands, black smeared clothes, black mouth. Flat red eyes.

Jack stood and let his meal drop, the Tooth Fairy now a mass of matted feathers and meat. 

Behind Jack the children continued to feast. He had known, had intended to use the guardian's weakness for children, a new batch of fearlings, the last little lights on the globe they had tried so hard to save. He had wanted to savour their horror, drink up their fear as they watched, powerless, as he twisted their most precious of treasures into monsters.

With Jack at his side he had thought the game won, all that was left was the victory lap, the Guardians would see it as a final battle, a pitifully useless fight. It had been laughable, North had barely been able to raise his sword. Certainly not against Jack, who watched them from Pitch's side, the darkness slowly eating away inside him. 

Oh how they had raged at him, and oh how their hearts trembled with horror when they realized they had driven the boy to him, even sweeter than their pain was the culmination of a millenia long goal. Finally, finally he would have his prize. 

His fearling prince.

"You were supposed to be my Fearling Prince." Pitch said, softly, then anger filled him. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FEARLING PRINCE!"

Jack smiled, walking so weightlessly across the snow towards the ice's edge. The children, frozen dead things with red red eyes, turned to watch them. Was it the blood or the ice that made them look so odd? Were they changing in shape as well? Jack's body had grown even as he had made the rediculous bird woman his meal. He had been dangerously thin before, but now he was skeletal. As emaciated as the Nightmares that flocked to his side.

Jack stepped onto the ice, Nightmares, Pitch's Nightmares, following him like pets. Pitch couldn't back up, the ice was too smooth, though Jack walked across it without difficulty, he couldn't scramble back.

"That was always your dream, not mine." Jack leans down, staring at him with those eyes as flat as a snake. His breath is far too rancid for a fresh kill, as if the flesh he had devoured rot within his mouth. "I don't have dreams anymore."

**Author's Note:**

> I have a fondness for ice cannibal legends, though everyone appropriates and misuses the Wendigo to goddamn much. Enter the Mhuwe, who will fuck you up and also isn't so easily killed. Bonfire anyone?


End file.
